A memory of the past

I was reminded this week of the journey that is possible in our lives. We don’t always pay attention to the passage of time, but if we step back and look at where we have been it can be amazing to see how for you have come.

My travels this week took me to Rosemount Minnesota. Normally I move from appointment to appointment engrossed in music and thought, but today, while sitting at a stoplight, I was brought back to myself and to the past as I gazed out of my windshield towards the front of a restaurant. I was immediately transported back to late spring of 2012, and to this place – Celts Pub. It was here that our family received the first taste of what the support outside of the hospital would look like, and how many people were rooting for Frank to get better.

I had an appointment to keep, but after my visit I turned back toward Celts Pub and pulled into the parking lot. As I sat there contemplating whether or not to go in, I thought to myself that I owe it to these people to say thank you. I walked to the door and entered, turning to the right where the party had been that night in Frank’s honor.

The door was locked and the lights were off.

I paused, and turned to the left, hoping someone would be available for me to talk to – lucky for me, it was the lunch hour, and the bar was full of patrons and people working that morning.

I followed the man with the key, and allowed myself to walk back in time as my thoughts remembered the thick crowds of people, and the overwhelming fear and worry that I felt that day. Worry for Frank being overwhelmed by the people, worry for me being able to face all of these people and faces, and worry that Frank won’t know what to do or say.

Worry was thick back then, worn like a wet blanket that weighed me down. Walking into the bar and feeling the lightness made me re-evaluate those memories with a different view.

No one cared what Frank knew or didn’t know; no one cared what we said or did. People just wanted to show us that they were willing to do whatever it would take to be there, and that we were loved by our large, extended family.

I glanced towards the ceiling and was thrilled to see the police roof and lights still hanging up high. That night, officers and friends climbed a ladder to sign this memorial to honor blue blood. At one point, much to my dismay, Frank joined them up high and signed his name as well, quickly followed by his loyal and trusted friend for so long, Officer Beckett.

The sight of those signatures brought me joy and peace like nothing has this week. To know such love and loyalty, to see it exist in my own life, engages my spirit to do more, to be more to others, and to give back to this life that has given us so much, in the midst of a gigantic unknown.

Thank you Celts for giving me a look back – a look back that made me appreciate the months that have gone by since that time, and an understanding that even in the hardest moments of our lives, life continues on, even if we are unable to appreciate the time that is passing.